


Tea

by WroughtBetwixt



Series: JohnWard Prompts [12]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Emotional Baggage, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Teen Grant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WroughtBetwixt/pseuds/WroughtBetwixt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a struggle between both SHIELD and HYDRA programming-- stand on your own, don’t rely one anyone-- and the pure human desire for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea

It was a bad day.

John was in bed, head spinning and feeling like he was underwater. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, and the sunlight coming through the window burned his eyes. Grant was nearby, speaking, but his voice sounded like it was coming from far, far away. The sixteen-year-old was asking something; John couldn’t make sense of it, besides hearing the word “training”. 

“Take the day off,” John mumbled, face buried in a pillow. “I must have come down with something.”

Silence. Grant must have left. It was the simple answer, really. He didn’t want to scare the teenager with long-winded explanations of unidentified sicknesses and glitchy cyborg body parts; it wasn’t time for that yet. John sighed, trying to talk himself back into sleeping. It must have worked; when he woke, he felt a little less sore, though the world was still spinning and his throat felt like he’d swallowed glass. Trying to sit up, John was surprised to find that the blinds had been closed, and a warm blanket was tucked around him. A grateful tendril curled through his heart, especially when he noticed that Grant was still in the room, curled up in the corner of the bed and reading a book.

Grant glanced up from his book when John sat up, and was on his feet and out the door before John could even try and say anything. Had he spooked the kid? Watching Grant leave the room, John leaned back on his pillows, thinking. Ever since Grant had gotten drunk and spilled his guts about everything his family had done to him, the two had been... closer, John supposed. It was an odd feeling. John was used to doing things alone. He’d been handling his illness on his own for almost ten years, and suddenly here was some punk kid tucking him in and watching over him like...

... Like family. John let the idea settle in his mind. Of course he knew he was going to be useful to Grant. He planned to be the kid’s supervising officer, one of these days soon. But somehow, it hadn’t clicked that it was going to be a two-way street, and John wasn’t sure how to feel about that. One part of John’s mind fought against it. He was the adult here, he was the one that was supposed to be taking care of Grant, he was supposed to be able to take care of himself. The other part of his mind knew he was sick, knew he needed help. It was a struggle between both SHIELD and HYDRA programming-- stand on your own, don’t rely one anyone-- and the pure human desire for comfort.

It was then that Grant came back with a mug that smelled distinctly of peppermint. He came to John’s side, handing him the warm mug of tea. The struggle died, at least for the moment. Someone actually gave a shit, and that was more compassion than John had gotten from anyone since before Sarajevo. John accepted the drink, sighing in relief as the warmth of it, and the smooth taste of honey, soothed his throat. He wasn’t sure he could speak, but he really didn’t need to. He gave Grant a smile, and the kid’s eyes lit up, cheeks a couple shades pinker as he curled back up on the bed and went back to reading his book.

Protocol be damned. John didn’t want to be alone, either.


End file.
